The Epic Closet Clean-Out Action Plan

As part of my 2016 commitment to “mindful shopping,” I decided to embark on an epic closet cleanse. (I suppose the parlance du jour would be “closet detox.”) It’s been…interesting. Now, I’m a person who believes in the life-changing magic of cleaning out a closet. I last embarked on a crazy-big closet purge between film school semesters about (eek!) five years ago. And it really changed my life. No joke! A rigorous slash-and-burning of my sartorial belongings gave me a new angle on who I was, helped me make peace with the loose ends of my life, more fully empowered

A Year Of No Shopping (Or At Least A Lot Less Of It)

I’ve always wanted to try a “no shopping” experiment. A strange longing, I know. But I’ve always been fascinated by people who chronicle their experiences with limited capsule wardrobes or “shopping their closets” or “using out” their entire kitchen or pantry. Maybe I find something elegant in the austerity, maybe I have a weird inner Puritan or Victorian that needs tending to, maybe I’m overwhelmed by the consumerism and wastefulness around us, I don’t know. But going without shopping for fun or pleasure for a period of time seems interesting to me. Of course, I’m aware that this kind of

Viv Albertine’s Book is Yet Another Stealth Memoir About Rock ‘N Roll Motherhood

Maybe it’s a literary version of wishful thinking, but lately the only thing I really want to read as a new mama are rock biographies and memoirs. Parenting books make me feel anxious and overloaded, I don’t have the attention span for serious novels these days and anything truly new in terms of non/fiction feels very “in one ear, out the other” if it’s something I don’t have much prior knowledge about. (My new information absorption abilities have been seriously challenged since early-onset parental insomnia, as I call it.)  But rock books are easy: I usually know a bit about

A Craving for Clothes

I have fashion on the brain these days. Not in a musing, semi-intellectual art-nun kind of way, but like how when you’re a little kid and you’re like “I want red shoes! I want a ruffly blue dress!” Want, want, want, want, want! Maybe it’s because during pregnancy I felt like I couldn’t enjoy clothes as much as I usually do. It wasn’t like I had it bad during my baby-incubation months — my style always gravitated towards a silhouette with a looser top and a tighter bottom, so I wore a surprising amount of pre-pregnancy clothes for much of